


gut-clenching

by rhysgore



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Omorashi, little bit of stepping kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:13:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: He hadn’t considered the consequences of gorging himself back then. Now, hours later, he’s forced to face them as he trails awkwardly behind Jacob, growing more uncomfortable by the moment.





	gut-clenching

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again!! sorry, jacob just gives off extremely strong "guy who likes pee" vibes

It’s not his fault. Staci is unsure of so much now, but he’s certain about that, at the least. He sees so little water here- drinking is a privilege, not a right- that it’s hardly his fault that when he  _ does _ get to see it, on the rare occasions Jacob rewards him with it, he drinks as much as he can.

 

Jacob had handed the canteen to him earlier that morning, and Staci had squeezed as much as he possibly could into his mouth. He’d drank so fast he’d nearly choked, liquid dripping messily out from his lips and soaking the hem of his shirt. He’d drank until his stomach had ached and Jacob had watched, amused at his desperation. As if it wasn’t  _ his fault _ Staci was in this position.

 

_ Asshole,  _ Staci had thought. And kept to himself, of course.

 

He hadn’t considered the consequences of gorging himself back then. Now, hours later, he’s forced to face them as he trails awkwardly behind Jacob, growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

 

“Don’t lag, Pratt,” Jacob calls after him, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. Staci increases his pace as much as he can, the movement aggravating the cramping in his abdomen, the uncomfortable, inflated feeling making him wince.

 

It’s the weekly inspection, Jacob checking on all the facilities around the Veteran’s Center to make sure that everything is running properly, a smooth, well-oiled machine. Nothing that Staci hasn’t been part of plenty of times at this point, but usually he doesn’t need to piss this badly.

 

He tries to keep from showing obvious signs of it as he follows Jacob, but as the day goes on, it becomes harder and harder. It doesn’t help that Jacob expects him to stand at all times, depriving him of even that kind of small comfort. Staci fidgets, moving from foot to foot, scratching at his forearms and hips. 

 

Jacob will be angry if Staci slows him down, for any reason. Briefly, Staci wonders if Jacob’s anger would be more bearable than the humiliation of pissing himself, and shakes his head, biting his lip.

 

_ I made it through his training,  _ he thinks,  _ I can hold it in for another few hours. _

 

But as time drags on, the uncomfortable sensation ramps up, and his already fragile self-assurance starts to fray as the pain in his belly grates at it. He digs his nails into his arms hard enough that they break skin, but even that doesn’t work to distract him from the awful ache of his body. Any more of this and he’s going to explode, he’s sure of it.

 

It only gets worse when, after they’ve finished checking in on the fresh batch of recruits, Jacob turns to him, grabs by his shirt collar, and drags him out of sight of all the others.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice deceptively calm. Staci gulps. “Is this  _ boring  _ you?”

 

They’re outside now, in the narrow, deserted gap between two rows of cells. Staci likes being outside, usually- it makes him feel less stir-crazy, less  _ trapped,  _ less like an animal awaiting slaughter. 

 

Usually.

 

“No, sir,” Staci replies, as quickly as he can. Jacob is only a little taller than he is, but he uses every inch of that to loom, forcing Staci to shrink back. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted.”

 

Jacob’s mouth twists into something that vaguely resembles a smile, a cruel, thin one with no real humor in it. “No shit. The question is, what’s distracting you?” His grip tightens and the collar digs uncomfortably into Staci’s throat. “Hmm? You planning something?”

 

Staci shakes his head as much as he can. “No,” he says, caught between embarrassment and fear. “N-nothing like that, I just-”

 

He can’t say it. He can feel his face go red, heat spreading from his cheeks to his chest, only exacerbated by the way his bladder feels like it’s about to pop. He can’t do this- he’s going to piss himself right here, right in front of Jacob, too weak-willed to hold it in for even a second longer.

 

“What is it?” Jacob asks, again. He’s less angry now, at the very least, but it’s been replaced by a cruel type of amusement. There’s something causing Staci discomfort, and he can sense it, like blood in the water. If Staci doesn’t tell him now, there’s no way Jacob will let up on him.

 

“I just- I really n-need to- I drank too much earlier, and…” His eyes screw shut. “I’ve needed to piss most of the day.”

 

It’s frankly a miracle that he doesn’t immediately give up the ghost after admitting it. No, Staci only  _ feels  _ like he’s going to die, and the look on Jacob’s face- as close to incredulous as Staci’s ever seen him- does absolutely nothing to abate that.

 

“Ah,” Jacob says, flat and accepting. “Well. Go ahead, then.”

 

_ What? _

 

Staci can’t help but be confused. He blinks, looking at Jacob for clarification, and Jacob raises an eyebrow.

 

“If you need to go, you need to go,” he says, shrugging. “Should’ve told me earlier- don’t want you getting an infection or anything like that. Better to just swallow your pride for a moment than accidentally fuck yourself up too badly.”

 

Dumbly, Staci nods. “Thank you,” he says, breathless relief in his voice. “Thank you.”

 

He tries to extricate himself from Jacob’s grasp, only to find that Jacob doesn’t seem to want to let him go, hand still wound around Staci’s shirt collar. Staci tries to move again, and Jacob gives him an inch or two before pulling him back harshly, making Staci’s knees buckle. He sags against Jacob, the strength of the man’s arm the only thing keeping him upright, keening in pain.

 

“You said-”

 

“Ah, ah. Didn’t say  _ where, _ did I?”

 

Jacob lets go of him, and Staci crumbles to the floor, jolting when his knees hit the dirt. It’s by great force of will that he doesn’t lose control right then and there. When he tries to pick himself back up, Jacob grabs him again, this time by the hair, grip tight enough that Staci can feel the ache of his scalp.

 

A boot nudges between his legs, pressing against his bladder, and Staci whimpers.

 

“S-stop,” he mumbles, as if it’ll help. As if Jacob has ever listened to him before.

 

“It’s cute that you think you’re getting out of this any way other than pissing yourself,” Jacob says. His foot isn’t exerting that much pressure, but even the slightest weight right now feels like a ton of bricks. “You might as well get it done with now. I’ve still got stuff to do today, and if I’m late to it because of you, I’m not going to be happy.”

 

Jacob pushes a little harder, and it feels like needles are being driven into his abdomen, sharp and unrelenting. Staci shakes his head. He can feel his throat getting tight, and he isn’t sure if it’s from the pain or something else- only that he wants, very badly, to be anywhere but here, struggling to control his bladder, Jacob watching him with some sort of sick, voyeuristic pleasure. His arms are unrestrained at his sides, but they feel like dead weights- he can’t fight back. Not now. Not like this.

 

At least it’s just them. None of the other peggies around, just him and Jacob, Jacob’s boot grinding into his pelvis, Jacob’s amused smile and the sadistic gleam in his eyes. No one else to see.

 

“Come on. Be a good boy, and just  _ let go,”  _ Jacob says. There’s a note to his voice, a purr that makes Staci think he’s getting something else out of this. But then again, that’s almost always the case with Jacob’s discipline. Getting off on Staci’s abject humiliation.

 

In the end, it only takes a little more pressure to get him to him to crack, and Staci sobs in equal parts embarrassment and relief as a dark stain spreads out from his crotch, already filthy pants made even filthier- wet, uncomfortably warm, and disgusting. The smell of urine isn’t exactly uncommon around the cages, but it’s fresh now, sharp and acidic rather than old, stale, muted. 

 

Watching his every move, Jacob makes a soft, contented noise. Staci takes a sort of miserable pride in the fact that his boot is a casualty as well, piss soaking the leather, but Jacob doesn’t seem to particularly care himself. 

 

“There you go,” he says. “Doesn’t that feel so much better?”

 

As much as Staci hates to admit it, it does. The clinging dampness, the filth, the smell- they’re all far, far more bearable than the ache of trying to hold it had been. The shame of admitting it, even to himself, makes his face hot, and he turns his head away as far as Jacob’s grip will allow him to.

 

The relief is temporary. Jacob strokes through his hair once, almost affectionately, and then wastes no time in hauling Staci to his feet by it, yanking him upwards until he has no choice but to stand. Like this, it’s even more obvious that he’s pissed himself- he can feel it running down his legs, dripping onto the dirt beneath his feet. His pants cling to his thighs, the heat already fading, leaving an unpleasant chill every time there’s a breeze.

 

“I expect you to be paying full attention now that  _ this  _ isn’t a problem for you anymore,” Jacob says. Because of course, that wasn’t it. Of course, Jacob still wants Staci to follow him, to be attentive during the rest of the inspection. Of course, he wants everyone else in this fucking place to be witness to this new degradation. Of course.

 

Staci shifts slightly, nodding. He doesn’t want to. But he has no choice.

 

“Yes,” he mutters. “Of course.”

 

“Good.” Jacob smiles, pats his cheek with an odd faux-affection. “Don’t fall behind. We still have a lot of work to do today.”


End file.
